Mourning Blues
by H.E.R
Summary: The members of the Bebop muse to themselves after the last episode. Some cursing. Please R&R! ***I finally fixed the formatting error! There are paragraphs!***
1. Introduction

            Recently, I thought of how I have been doing a sort of "after death" series with the crew of the Bebop.  I have decided that I will now take these stories and put them into one.  Each chapter is a different member, and they are all written in first person.  I plan to do a sort of reunion story with Jet, Faye, Ed, and Ein once I get the time to write it.  This reunion will simply be added to the end of this so as not to confuse.

            I thank you for reading these and I ask that you review them for my own sake.  I write a lot better when I have encouragement.

            By the way, I do not own Cowboy Bebop.  I only own this story.  Thanks again.


	2. This Desert Life

            The steady hum of the ship was disquieting in some way.  Normally, I liked the sound, enjoyed it because it gave me something to listen to besides the silence.  Somehow, today was different.  Today it felt as if the noise simply amplified the silence and made it all that more unbearable.  I wanted to hear the sounds of people running around.  I wanted to hear the sound of Ein barking and Ed laughing while rushing around with enough noise for a herd of elephants.  I wanted to hear Faye fighting with Spike over whose fault it was that they had lost the last bounty and who had to give up their dinner.  I wanted to hear Spike.

            I lowered my head.  I knew that I shouldn't dwell on things like these.  I knew I needed to move on, but it was hard.  I just needed to stop thinking about it.  I needed to stop thinking.

            Deciding that I needed to be around people; needed to kill the silence, I made my way outside.  I just couldn't stay there any longer.  Faye was in her room doing God only knows what, and I could pretty much assume that Ed and Ein were long gone and I wouldn't see them again.  The night air was cool against my skin, relieving some of the tension that I had been feeling cooped up inside.  It was hot inside of the Bebop.  The cooling system was broken yet again and I just couldn't figure out how to fix it without a very expensive part that we just couldn't afford.  Well, to tell the truth, we couldn't afford it and still be able to eat for the next month or so.

            Up ahead and to the left, I saw a few people stagger drunkenly from a bar.  That sounded like a good idea.  I could just go and get completely shit-faced.  Yeah, maybe that was just what I needed.  I knew that if nothing else, it would at least let me forget for a little while.

            Wandering into the bar, I saw that all the stools next to the actual bar were pretty full.  After a moment's hesitation, I sit down on an empty stool between a tall blonde man and a short magenta haired woman.  The sound of an old jazz tune filled the air, letting me know that at least I wouldn't have to listen to bad music while I was here.  Things were looking better and better.  I knew that this wouldn't solve all of my problems, but at least it would keep me from losing my mind.

            Wasting almost no time, the blonde man finished off his drink and turned to me.  "So, what's your story?" he asked, looking me directly in the eyes.  He seemed as though he had nothing to hide.  Either that or he was a very good liar.

            He looked nice enough, though, but I knew for a fact that looks could be deceiving.  He was fairly clean and wore a long, red coat that buttoned up the front in two neat rows.  His face was friendly looking enough, with blue eyes that shined with what could have been either childish hope or booze; possibly both.  He had a birthmark just below his left eye, which gave him a sort of pretty-boy look.  Something deep inside me told me that I had seen his picture somewhere before, but I just couldn't bring myself to care at this point in time.  He was somebody to talk to.  He was a friendly face in a crowd of self-pitying slugs.

            "It's a long one," I confided, waving my hand to get the bartenders attention.  "How long have you got?"

            The man smiled at me a little, looking down at the empty glass he held before looking back up to me again.  "I have all night," he answered, giving a very honest and open look.

            Before I knew it, I had had one too many drinks and told the stranger almost everything that had happened since all of the Bebop crew had gotten together; at least the important parts.  Retelling the death of Spike was just like reliving it.  I felt a tear slide down my face and realized that I hadn't actually talked about it with anybody.  I didn't think that Faye had either, but there was nothing I could do to help her if I couldn't help myself.  I kept thinking back to all of the good times that we had had together, before that last showdown.  Then I couldn't help thinking of the way Spike had looked when I identified the body.  I found myself regretting that I hadn't stopped Spike.  I knew that it was something he had to do, but he didn't need to do it right then.  He could have waited until he had gotten better, until he was sure he'd win…until he was too old to have even done it.  "I just don't think that I can take it anymore.  Sometimes I wish that I had been nicer to him.  I kicked him out of the damned ship too many times!  I should have let him know just how much I cared about him."  I paused a moment, mulling over my own emotions.  "Sometimes I wish that I had been stricter.  That I hadn't let him get away with the things that he did.  That I hadn't let him feel like he could survive anything.  I don't think it would have worked anyway, but that one chance…" I trailed off, letting the thought hang for a moment.  "Just the idea that something I could have done might have made that difference between his life and death, keeps tearing at me.  It keeps eating me up inside."  I slammed the glass down onto the bar with enough force that it nearly shattered.  "I don't know why the hell he always had to do things his way!"

            The blond man looked at me, some sad recognition in his eyes.  "I know how you feel.  I know how it feels to just not be able to do anything to save somebody."  The man bowed his head as if in remembrance of those who have been lost by everybody.

            I was vaguely aware of the bartender refilling our drinks, and I held out the money to pay for them.  "It's on the house," he said, waving away the money.

            I finally looked back up from my glass at the kind stranger.  "To those that we've lost," I said, holding up the glass.

            "To those that we've lost," repeated the blonde, clinking his glass against mine.

            In one swift motion, both glasses were drained.  Sitting in silence, we both stared down at the glasses, mulling over our pain and loss.  I felt a connection with the man that I still hadn't learned the name of.  I think that we both felt it.  We weren't alone.  Even if it weren't him, somebody else would know my pain.  But for now, he was the one that was there for me, offering silent support.  I was tempted to take that support, but in the end, my own sense of pride got in the way.  I slowly got up from the stool and turned to say goodbye to the man, but found that he had already gone.  I was alone again.  I was once again the only one dealing with this sorrow.

            Making my way back to the Bebop, I consider for a moment what the man had been talking about.  I didn't know.  I wasn't even sure that I cared.  At that moment, all of my grief belonged to Spike.  I just couldn't say goodbye to him.  I just couldn't let go.  Something in the back of my head wondered if I would ever get over it, but I already knew the answer to that.  I knew that the loss of Spike would always be a gaping wound in my heart.

            Looking to the sky, I keep thinking of him.  He was out up there somewhere…forever lost…forever gone.  I fell to the ground in a heap and simply lay there.  I had no desire to get up.  I had not urge to move.  I wasn't sure if I would ever get up again.  Why did you have to leave us, Spike?


	3. Dancing Alone

Disclaimer:  I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters. Cowboy Bebop copyright 1998 Emotion, Sunrise Inc., and Bandai Visual Co. limited

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A/N: I would just like to thank all of you who read and reviewed my last fic.  I decided to write this one for all of you.

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The thunder crashed overhead as I walked through the empty cemetery.  It was just me and the dead.  The rain was falling down on my head as if it wanted to pound me into the ground.  Oh, how I missed him.  *Damn it, Spike! *  I thought.  *Why did you have to get yourself killed? *  I hated him for it.  I hated him almost as much as I hated myself for not doing more to stop him from leaving.  *I didn't want you to tell me about yourself…Why did you have to tell me?  You'd never done it before. *  I kept walking until I found it.  It was his headstone.

I knelt down in front of it, not even caring about my clothes getting muddy.  The inscription was short and sweet, just like Spike would have wanted it.  It said, "Goodbye, Cowboy".  That was it.  Nothing claiming that he was a prince among princes.  Nothing that said he was a beloved brother or son or even friend.  Spike wasn't a prince among princes.  Even I knew that.  I loved him with all my heart, but he wasn't that kind of a guy.  He was a rough, tough guy.  He was the cool, calm guy who could deal with anything.  He was even the asshole, but he was never a prince.  That term just seemed too sissy-like for him, and Spike was definitely not a sissy.

He was a beloved friend and colleague.  I was even pretty sure that he had family somewhere, even if I didn't know where, but I don't think he would have wanted them putting that on his tombstone.  He had this thing about not wanting to be mourned by his loved ones.  *Well, Spike, * I thought, looking down at the earth above him, *we wouldn't have to cry if you had stayed. *

"Faye," a voice from behind me called.

I lifted my head and turned to see the tall, gruff man standing three rows back.  "Alright.  I'm coming, Jet," I said, wondering if those were tears going down my face or if it was just the rain.  I knew some of the moisture was tears, but I didn't want to admit it to myself.  I couldn't cry over him.  He had gone and got himself killed and that was his own fault.  I shouldn't have to deal with the pain.  Then again, I shouldn't have fallen for him in the first place, so I guess that that was my fault.  Damn it.

I walked over to Jet, knowing that we would be leaving, and we would probably never come back.  I knew that I most definitely would not be able to stand knowing that I was in the place of Spike's death.  I cursed him again.  How could he have gotten so close to both of us only to leave?  What right did he have to leave us behind so that he could confront his past?  Wasn't he the one that told me something about letting go of the past?  I couldn't even think straight anymore.  My head hurt and I was beginning to think that all the crying was getting to me.

We made our way back to the Bebop.  I wasn't really sure, but I think I was actually happy to see it, or it may have just been that anything was a release from the pain of losing Spike.  *Losing Spike? *  I scoffed.  *I never had Spike in the first place.  I don't think anybody did. *  That was the plain truth.  I was beginning to wonder if even his beloved Julia had truly had him.  Sure he loved her and would do anything for her, but did she really have all of him?  I honestly didn't care.  I didn't want to know about the love of Spike's life when I had never been given a chance.

The living room was empty and devoid of life.  I sat down on the couch and flipped through the different TV programs.  There was nothing good on, like always.  I didn't really care though.  I left the channel and some show with a weird boy trying to get away from these five beautiful women who obviously wanted to sleep with him.  What a strange show.

"Don't you have something better to do?"  I could almost hear Spike's voice, trying to get rid of me yet again.

Of course not, my dear Spike.  I have nothing better to do than to sit here and think of you.  I wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't of left us.

I felt the tears spring up in my eyes again.  Damn him!  I choked them back, and sniffled a little.  I had cried enough over him already.  I didn't need to be crying any more.  It was just that the whole place was so quiet.  I couldn't even hear Jet.  He was probably watering his bonsai trees.

"Hey, Faye-Faye!"  Ed's voice rang.  Jumping, I turned towards the sound and was greeted by the sight of an empty chair.  Just another illusion from my back stabbing brain.

                I needed to get out of that room.  I needed to do something.  The memories were just so strong that I couldn't stand them.  I couldn't stand being in that room a moment longer.  Standing quickly, I half-trotted towards the door.

                "Ed!  Don't do that!"  I heard Spike's voice again.  Turning back, I was suddenly flooded by the memory of Ed bouncing all over Spike and begging him to get her "something good".  She almost never left the ship, and always asked for a good souvenir.  I suppose that she just wanted to not take the risk of being kidnapped or something like that.  I could just see Ed hugging Spike's neck and rubbing her face on his.

                "Spike-Spike," she half sighed.  She seemed so content at that moment.  I remember wishing that I could just do that.  I remember wishing that I could just wrap my arms around Spike and never let him go.  Maybe I should have.  Maybe I should have grabbed hold and never let him go to that "show-down".  If I had, I probably wouldn't be crying right now.

                The memory left me just as quickly as it had come and all I could hear was the sound of Spike's voice whispering.  It was this memory that made me break down.  I saw the floor come up before I realized that my knees had just given out underneath me.  The tears streamed down my face in a hot rush of anguish, but I could still hear his voice saying, "Somebody once said that 'of all the sad words of tongue or pen: the saddest are these; "It might have been"'."


	4. Walking After Midnight

Disclaimer:  I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters. Cowboy Bebop copyright 1998 Emotion, Sunrise Inc., and Bandai Visual Co. limited

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A/N: I wrote this because I feel that Edward is portrayed much too often as a two-dimensional character and is often ignored when it comes to fanfic.  Please review.  I really want to know what everybody thinks of this.

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                The world slowly passes me by as I keep up my incessant strides.  Maybe someday I'll make it somewhere.  Not that anybody would really notice I had gone in the first place.  Maybe people would care where I was going.  Maybe they wouldn't give a crap.  There was really no way for me to tell except to go there and find out.  I was already betting that they wouldn't give a crap about me or anything that I said or did.  Not unless it was a negative reaction.  People were always acting as if I either didn't exist or just didn't matter one bit to them.  I guess I didn't matter to them…any of them.  If I had mattered, I don't think they would have left without trying to find me.  The only one of them that cares is Ein, which is almost sad, because Ein is just a dog.  No, I mustn't be sad.  If I let myself be sad, then I will show it outside and everybody will know the truth.  The truth?  Well, the truth is that I'm not at all happy.  I just act that way to try and make everybody else at ease.  It's hard enough for them to deal with their own pain and sorrow let alone mine.  I wasn't going to do that to them.  Even if they didn't care about me, I cared about them.  They were the only family that I knew.  The only family that actually remembered my gender that is.

                Thinking of that brings me to my father.  Any man can be a father, but it takes a great man to be a dad.  My father just wasn't that man.  He tried and he loved me, that was for sure, but he didn't ever really care for me.  I know that sounds weird, but it was true.  He loved me a lot…or rather he loves me a lot when he remembers that I exist.  He knows that he has a child.  He even thinks he remembers my name, but he keeps thinking that I'm a guy.  I think that he wishes he had a son.  That's really not hard to surmise from his constantly thinking I'm his son, and then not really noticing when he's corrected.  Yeah, he loves me…he just doesn't care enough about me to take care of me.  He doesn't even care enough to take me with him when he leaves.  I will give him credit though, he did offer.

                I keep walking along with my long gait, wondering if Ein is starting to get tired.  If he was I'm sure that he would let me know.  Ein has always been the best friend I've ever had, even if he can't talk to me.  He's always at least been there, though he has for everybody, I think that he cares more for me than the others.  He did show me that he cared a lot for me when he decided to come with me instead of leaving with the others.  I'm really not sure what I would do without him.  Fall into a deep depression I suppose is the most likely answer.  Oh well.  He's here with me, and that's what really matters.

                I've been walking for days.  I really don't even remember how long it's been.  Maybe I should just give up.  I might be able to hail the Bebop if I tried; though getting a connection to them was unlikely.  I wasn't even sure that I could find them anymore.  Well, that was a lie.  I knew exactly where they are.  I'm just afraid that they won't want me back.  What if they like not having me around to be loud and bother them?  What if they didn't even like me in the first place?  They probably didn't, but at least they tolerated me.  It wasn't love, but it was something.

                A tear slides down my face as I stop and look at the sky.  Something's wrong.  Something has gone wrong with the Bebop and it will never be fixed again.  I wonder what it is and how I know there's something wrong, but I just can't seem to figure it out.  I can just tell that something has happened and the Bebop will never be the same.  Something is lost.  Lost forever and ever.  I feel the tears slide down my face and know that I should see what's going on.  I know that I should go to them.  If not for them, for myself.  I need to know what happened.  I could easily find it on the Internet, but I think that this is something that I need to hear from them.

                I look down at Ein and see that he too is sad.  He whimpers at me with his ears back to show his sorrow, then he looks up to the sky to tell me it's the Bebop.  I already know that, but it is nice of him to let me know that he does.  "I know, Ein.  Something's wrong.  Maybe we should go back to them…" I let the thought linger in the air and watch Ein for his reaction.  For a moment he does nothing, thinking about whether or not we should go, then he yips and points his nose up at the stars.  I had my answer.  I was going home.


	5. Spike's Solo

            Everything was gone.  Blackness was all that I saw.  Where was everybody?  Were my eyes even open?  I tried to open then, finding that even if they weren't already open I still only saw blackness when I opened them.  Where was I?  Questions filled my head, but I knew I had to keep my cool.  That's who I was, the cool, calm guy.  I was the one who didn't get worked up over everything like everyone else.  It was rare when I lost my cool, and now was one of those times.  I was beginning to panic.  I had no idea where I was.  I had no idea why I couldn't see anything.  Was it dark or had I gone blind?  I realized that I couldn't feel my arms or legs.  I couldn't feel any part of my body.  What was going on?

            Suddenly, it all came back to me.  I remembered the showdown with Vicious.  I remembered the way that it had taken all of my strength to get down those few stairs and away from his body.  I couldn't stand to be that close to him when I died.  When I died?  I'd died?  Was it a dream?  Did I fall asleep and dream this?  No.  I knew that it wasn't.  I knew that it was true.  I was dead.  It took me a moment to grasp the idea, but it wasn't as horrible as I had thought it would be.  I was dead.  At least I didn't have to starve half the time.

            It was sad though.  I knew that I would never again see the Bebop.  I knew that I would never again see any of the Bebop's crew.  I felt a stab of pain as I realized that I never said a proper goodbye to them.  I wish that I had.  I wish that I had been more open with them, but it's much too late now.  The only consolation I could find when I thought of them was that they weren't with me.  I was glad they were alive.  I was glad that they would have a chance to make something better from their lives.  I knew they had it in them.  I don't know how, but I knew that they would be all right.

            I wonder how they took my death.  I wonder if Ed even knew about it.  Ed was a good girl…a little bit weird, but she meant well.  I wondered if she had found her father and wished that she did.  They were all good, though.  No matter how annoyed I may have gotten with Faye, she was just a girl trying to find herself.  I knew that.  I knew that she didn't mean to be as cruel as she sometimes was.  I also knew that I should have listened to Jet more.  He wasn't as strict as I liked to act.  He was just a man trying to make it in the world and not have to deal with the corruption.  I think of them, I think of them all, and suddenly I see them before my eyes.  It's as though my vision has been divided into three different parts, and in each part is one of them.

            I saw Jet, sitting alone in the living room.  He was covered in grease, probably from working on the engine.  He didn't look happy.  It was pretty safe to assume that yet another thing had broken down and he just couldn't fix it.  A part of me smiled, remembering listening to him complain about the "damned ship".  Another part of me felt kind of bad for him, hoping that he would figure something out.

            I changed to focus to Ed.  I saw her in a dingy little restaurant.  She was in the same clothes as always, if not a little more dirty.  At her feet was Ein, who was waiting for her to pass him a few table scraps.  Somehow, Ed seemed older.  She hadn't been gone that long, and she hadn't changed physically, but something in her eyes told me that she was older.  Was that always there?  Had I just missed it?  I didn't know, but I knew that she still held a small spark of hope somewhere in her.  I prayed that that hope was enough to get her through life.

            Changing focus again, I saw Faye.  She looked as beautiful as ever.  I had never told her how pretty she was.  I hoped that she knew it.  She was sitting alone in her room.  I could tell that she wasn't happy either.  She had been crying.  I wondered briefly if it was over me.  I had made her cry.  At least I know that I'll be remembered, I thought, with a vague sense of dry humor.  I wasn't happy with myself for making her cry.  I wish that I could take those tears back from her, but I know that I can't.  It was too late.  I had to do that.  If I didn't finish things, I would never have been at ease with my past or myself.

            Thinking of that, the image of Faye fades.  I become aware of how much better I feel now that I have actually closed that chapter of my life.  Of course, I wasn't sure if the price was worth it, but I'm glad that I did it anyway.  It was just too bad that it had cost the others so much.  Well, I at least knew that I would watch over them while I still could.  Until I figured out where the hell I was and how to get out of there, I would watch them and pray for them.  I just hope that they don't need it.


End file.
